Hot & Cold
by woahthatsaperson
Summary: All is well at 221B. Maybe even a bit better than usual, considering that John and Sherlock have figured out their new relationship. That is, until a certain consulting criminal decides to play a manipulative game with the crime fighting duo. Can a relationship forged in flames withstand Moriarty's wrath, or will it freeze over?


**AN: Hey guys. This is my first fic with multiple chapters, and only my second story, so I apologize for the short chapter to start off with. Anyways, please review and make sure to say if you think I should continue. Hope you enjoy :)**

_Heat. Burning. Scorching. Consuming. Fire. Melting. Torching._

Fire. Liquid fire, coursing through John Watson's veins. This adrenaline would usually be a welcome feeling, except for the fact that the doctor had no idea what had just happened. One minute he had been home alone, making tea and quietly singing an old Stones song, the next he was pushed up against a wall and kissed by a dark figure. Normally being attacked, or, for lack of a better term, "mouth raped", by an unknown phantom in one's own home would be disturbing, to say the least, but John had a good idea who this mysterious figure was.

"Sherlock! I... wh...what the absolute hell do you think you're doing?" John yelled, pushing his flatmate away. "I... Just... I've never heard you sing before, and it..." As Sherlock floundered his way through an explanation, John attempted to calm himself. It was unusual for Sherlock to display even the tiniest acts of affection, let alone try to snog the living daylights out of someone. That, combined with the fact that John hadn't even heard Sherlock enter the flat, resulted in an extremely confused and slightly flustered doctor. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. You... You just kissed me. I believe that warrants an explanation." "Yes, I believe it does," the detective said, all traces of discomfort gone from his voice. A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed until John spoke again. "Well, are you going to explain it, then?" "I would, but it happens to be blaringly obvious, and you know how I dislike stating the obvious." "It isn't obvious to me, so if you would be so kind as to grace me with your geniu-" "Oh, all right."

"You," he began, pointing at John, "clearly enjoyed the kiss, as evidenced by your red face, increased heart rate, and inability to speak in complete sentences. I must admit that I also found it pleasurable, or else I wouldn't have initiated it. Judging by both of our reactions to said kiss, it is logical that we try this more in the future. Explanation over." "Yes, I know that, but that does not answer my question. _Why_ did you kiss me?" Sherlock hesitated. "We both enjoyed it. Why does it matter what my motives were?" John stared intently at the pale man before him. _He hesitated,_ John noted. _Sherlock never hesitates. _"Sherlock. Holmes. Tell me right this instant, or I will throw out the thumbs you're keeping in the fridge." "But those are for an experiment on-" "I don't care if they're the cure for cancer, you tell me your motives or I will chuck them out the window."

Sherlock sighed and flopped onto the couch. "Alright. I've been thinking on this for a while. We both obviously have... _feelings_ for each other. We already share money and a flat. Neither of us are in other relationships- Oh, don't look so put out. Those girls barely last five minutes before they run off. Anyway, you are one of the few supremely patient human beings that will both put up with me and are not unbearably ordinary. Everyone already assumes we are romantically linked, and thus I see no reason we should not be." The detective looked at John expectantly. He was prepared for anger, tears, sentiment, or a cocktail of the three to come out of the doctor's mouth. He was not, however, ready for what happened: John laughed. Sherlock had just made a very logical and well thought-out proposal, or so he thought, and John laughed in his face. "You know, for a genius, you can be remarkably thick." Sherlock's face burned with embarrassment. _I must have deduced wrong. I thought that... Well it doesn't matter what I thought. I was wrong. _"Sherlock." He looked up from his spot on the couch to find John staring down at him, a small grin on his face. "You can just ignore all that. If you'll excuse me." John gaped as the taller man pushed him aside and swept out of the room.  
><em>Well, crap.<em>

* * *

><p>Sherlock paced around his room, analyzing every moment he'd spent with John since the first day they had met, trying to find where he had gone wrong in his deductions. He found himself smiling at many of the memories. <em>Stop it. This is the error. Allowing emotions to cloud the process. Now, focus. <em>He searched through every last moment, from the most memorable cases to every lazy Saturday in between. John _had _always fervently denied any insinuation that the two were a couple. _Perhaps the idea of a relationship had just been wishful thinking on my part. I mean, honestly, I couldn't do better than Joh- _His reverie was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. "Sherlock?" _Just ignore him and he'll go away, _Sherlock told himself. He knew, of course, that this was not in any way true. "Sherlock, I know you're not asleep. Please let me in. I need to talk to you." "Yes?" Sherlock asked coldly through the closed door. "Are you going to let me in or not?" The door opened and John stepped into the room, awkwardly sitting down on the bed next to Sherlock. "I didn't mean to offend you, you know. It's just that-" "It's just that it'd be unthinkable for the great John Watson to be interested in a man, let alone _me, _of all people."

The blogger glared at his flatmate. "If you'd have let me finish, you'd know that I wouldn-" "That you wouldn't ever even consider being romantically involved with a sociopath such as myself and that you would like to pack your things and leave as soon as possible. I know, I know." "Sherlock, I would never l-" "You would never love a freak like me and-" "Don't call yourself that!" "And you would prefer that we went our separate ways and- mphh?!" Partly because he _had_ enjoyed the first kiss, and partly (mostly) to shut Sherlock up, John brushed his lips against the detective's. It was, of course, effective.

"John?" "Yes?" "You... you just kissed me." "So it appears I did." "So I take it that means we're... together?" "Not at all. It means that I am completely straight and do not find your advances at all appealing," John assured. Sherlock grinned. "Smart arse."


End file.
